


The Moon knows all my secrets, but still, I will not tell.

by Kiiyah



Series: ~ Ficelets Collection ~ K-Pop Edition [3]
Category: VIXX
Genre: Gen, I don't know what to call this self-harm, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, abstract masks, lightly based off of beautiful mess by kristian kostov, not literal masks, philosophical to a point, this is really heavy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-15
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-05-07 06:17:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14665053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiiyah/pseuds/Kiiyah
Summary: Does nighttime really bring out the worst in us?





	The Moon knows all my secrets, but still, I will not tell.

**Author's Note:**

> Lightly based off of Beautiful Mess by Kristian Kostov. A friend of mine recommended the song to me, and I just found it so, mesmerizing. Though, it was only after re-reading my fic that I realized it was pretty similar.
> 
> Enjoy!

In the light of day, everyone wears masks. No, not those silly ones you see at carnival stands, hanging on the side of the stands with plastic sticks coming out of one end, the eyes of small children desiring such a prize, even if its only for a moments fun. It was the kind of mask that needs no payment, no silly games just to obtain, but a mask that everyone was born with, one that we spend our whole life perfecting, so much so it becomes our face.

No one ever knows why we put such a thing on ourselves, even when some of ourselves leak out. Maybe it’s because we are afraid of being reject, and try to avoid the humiliation at all costs. Or it could be for the very simple fact that we are used to it. Think about it. Why would we try to change something that works so well for us?

Why try to change something that isn’t broken? Its because sometimes, the part that’s broken isn’t very obvious at all. We focus so much at the superficial ideal of an object, or say person, that we get lost in it, and forget what makes this thing so beautiful, so entrancing, so all encompassing that the inside is lost to us.

This is how he felt, try to break free of his mask. His smiling, beautiful mask that covered him. It was only because of his face that he felt so disgraceful and broken. Was it really all that people cared about? Why didn’t anyone else care that he was burning, incinerating himself from the inside out? All it took was one look, and they would see-- but was that hoping for too much? As long as he remained this way, no one would ever see his problems valid, even if they felt entirely real to him.

He dragged a nail down his face, feeling the nail catch and tear along his skin. It wasn’t enough; this way it could still be covered with makeup. If he did anymore-- he did’t even have ownership of his own body anymore.

All he wanted was help. His friends would catch on, surely quicker than anyone else, but no, one look at their faces told him that they were the same-- all hiding the same ugly emotions that threatened to combust, lay out for all to see. Or were they really the same? If they were, wouldn’t they help him? Wouldn’t they have seen?

Could it be, he was projecting himself onto others, and only seeing what he felt? Then what were they feeling? Hongbin was tired, but him mind continued to run its descending course. He tossed and turned, feeling frustrated as nothing felt comfortable. 

He stared out the window, watching the stars flicker in the night sky. The moon wasn’t out, but that was okay, since the stars were more visible when there was none of its luminescence blinding them out. This was the only time they got there chance to shine, to, for once be brighter than the moon. Alas, they weren’t close, but Hongbin still found them calming to look at.

His thoughts slow fazed out from its pessimistic view, but it was only temporary, because later on in the day, he’d be right back where he started.


End file.
